Western Afghanistan- Pondering thoughts on the edge of Persia.

Herat, Afghanistan

Welcome to Herat.

August 2012

So here we are. I have flown across the country and I have arrived at the edge of Iran. I have arrived in what many call the safest city in Afghanistan, a more prosperous city, where many of the dangerous problems of Kandahar, Kabul and the North do not prevail. Where the people share more in common with their Persian neighbors than that of the eastern or southern parts of the country. Welcome to Herat.

Herat Airport.

Luggage collection, lol.

Herat is a famed city on the silk road, know for its incredible fort, built centuries ago by Alexander the Great and rebuilt and occupied by some of histories greatest conquerors including the likes of Tamerlane, Ghengis Khan and various Persian rulers. The fort today is now occupied by the Afghan security forces and was off limits to myself, but the outside view is flat out spectacular.

The city had a much different feel than the others I visited in Afghanistan, I have to say it was quite relaxed, a lot less edgy and the people have a much different dress style than elsewhere in the country. They are definitely more "Persianified" than the other parts of Afghanistan.

Post flight prayer.

I wandered through the different markets of Herat, saw the famed glass makers of old, the goods recently shipped from Iran or Turkey and people buying in preparation for Eid.

Herat city.

I only spent two days in Herat, as people were advising me to get out of Afghanistan before Eid, as the entire country basically shuts down. I enjoyed my few nights at the Marco Polo guest house, recommended to me by my friend Roberto, who travelled to Afghanistan earlier this year. I enjoyed the food here in Herat and the pre Eid celebrations had everyone excited. But I knew that all this happiness on the surface can change in an instant in Afghanistan and something in my gut told it was time to get out of dodge. I hired a taxi and he drove me to the border.

Grand Mosque, Herat.

Local kids outside the market.

I missed customs by only ten minutes, and with the border shut, I would have to spend a night in one of the tea houses on the Afghan side. Which I might add turned out to be one of the coolest experiences of the trip. I discovered that many other Afghans had too missed the border that afternoon and would also have to spend the night with me. But this was the night that the muslim holy fast of Ramazan ends, so in a way it is sort of like easter for christians, it is one big party! Afghan style.

Herat Markets.

Food was on the house! Gallons of tea were to be drank and the hookah pipes ran all night. I dined with the Afghan border police late into the night and with my limited Dari and their limited English it turned out to be a great send off to this incredibly interesting country.

Inside grand mosque, Herat.

As I sat in the tea house we were watching the news and saw that bombs had exploded in Herat that night, as terrorism attacks had sprung out across the country, as was to be expected following the breaking of the fast. I thanked god and my guardian angel for getting me to the safe haven on the border of Iran. And as I went to sleep under the stars on the deck of this tea house, I pondered my experience here in Afghanistan, as even down to the last minute, despite all the problems around them, the Afghans were still treating me as one of their own. I rested well and awoke the following day to my first and only normal breakfast in Afghanistan.

Ramazan is over! And so is my trip to Afghanistan, the Afghans were rushing me to the border with Iran. I was stamped out of Afghan customs and brought forward across the barbed wire border to seeing pictures of the grand Ayatollah and the Islamic Republic of Iran.

Herat Citadel.

I write now in Mashad, Iran. And I cannot help but be so thankful that I am here safe and sound. It seems strange to me all that has happened the last few weeks in Afghanistan.

I come away with many concepts to puzzle and of course a lasting experience that I may never see again in my life. I will always treasure my experience in Afghanistan because of one particular reason, the PEOPLE of Afghanistan. No matter what their tribe, their status, their level of wealth, or anything, they treated me so very kind. Afghans have suffered more than most in history, but despite this, and their so few material possessions, they are rich in faith,  love, kindness and hospitality. One of the principle teachings I remember from church growing up was when Jesus preached the beatitudes on the hill above lake Galilee, and he said: "Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God".

The man who would take me to the border.

The Afghans are the most pure of heart people I have ever seen and I believe myself to be a better man from having spent time with them. They are a people so misunderstood, and if there is any message I can convey from the trip "Between the lines of Asia", it is to look beyond the headlines and the stories of terror and stereotypes, and look closely at the people of these misunderstood lands. For the experiences they have and things they can teach us are so much and I am blessed from having explored here to see  and experience it. I wish them nothing but the best and I look forward to the day when I can return to visit their country, hopefully when peace comes to this land in the future.

Thank you so much to all those that made the experience in Afghanistan so special.

Sincerely,

Partying with the border security on the edge of Iran.

William Delaney

Celebrations following the end of Ramazan.

The Border with Iran.

AFGHANISTAN- Kabul Round Two- The Expat View.

Kabul Afghanistan

August 2012

The Calgary Crew in Kabul

In my earlier visit to Kabul I was introduced to the nuts and bolts of Afghan life. I drank chai, dined on rice Pulao, smoked sheesha and discussed at length with as many of the Afghans as I could. I took their local transport, little imported auto-rickshaws from India, the beat up shared taxis, donkey carts and walked as much on foot as possible around the streets and building blocks of Kabul.

The tomb of Babur, Babur Gardens, Kabul.

My experience in this city was so positive, and I was welcomed openly by all those I met as I showed in my early posting on Kabul. I however had a repeated comment given to me by Afghans, a rather sad comment, "You are one of the few white men to ever speak with us". The Afghans repeatedly told me that despite the massive international presence here by the United States and their allies, rarely do the Afghans get to meet foreigners. I asked myself, where do these foreigners reside? Where can I find them? What do they do in their free time?

Regardless, they say god works in mysterious ways. I finish a day exploring the last sites of Kabul that I missed on my earlier ventures to the city and I book my airline ticket to Herat, as the overland route was impossible, or so I was told by all Afghans I met. I come home to my hotel and I am in the elevator of my hotel, a new hotel this time, as Mustafas had shut down, as the ownership and work force had gone home for Eid. I see a man in the elevator, I greet him, "Asalam Aleykum", he responds in perfect English, "You are an American?". I say, no no, I am from Canada. He says, "ohhhhhhhhh I am off to an expat bar, run by a Canadian, you should join me". I am stunned for a minute, as drinking alcohol is strictly illegal in Afghanistan, not to mention the thought of a Canadian run bar there?????... hmmmmmm, well I thought about this for all of two seconds, changed my clothes and went with him.

On the road back from Baburs Garden to central Kabul

It was here that I would discover a window into the life of the expats of Afghanistan, a rather strange scene I must say, but interesting non the less. We enter into the compound, are searched by the guards and asked as to our occupation and who we know. The man I am with is an ethnic pashtun, but he had been educated in the UK, and thus worked often with expats. He spoke to them and they let us pass.

I then discover a compound courtyard full of expats drinking whiskey, wine and plenty of beer and a bar literally covered in Canadian paraphernalia, I felt like I had arrived at Hudson's Taphouse, except there was hardly any girls in sight, lol.

Traffic jams.

Canadian Expat Bar, Kabul.

I sat down and met a German expat, who was working for the German foreign affairs office in Kabul. He explained to me how he has to sneak out and dress like an Afghan just to meet Afghans, as the policy guarding the expats here are strict beyond anything, as the danger level is so high.

We get to chatting, and he explains to me the German governments goal to eventually build a German international school in Kabul. I thought this to be an impressive goal, and I have to say that the Germans outlook on what to do in Afghanistan I seemed to align myself with. The American military action, as I have mentioned is of course necessary, but without more long term measures for the country I do not see a lasting solution, or a victory over the Taliban or Islamic extremism. My new German friend fully agreed.

The night progressed and I met some more expats from the USA, Canada, France and the UK. All of which were interesting people, but many of them puzzled as to why on earth I had come to Afghanistan and many were just baffled by the way I had conducted my journey here. I had a man lecture me about how he has been in Afghanistan for five years and so on about his experience here. I asked him if he is ever allowed to interact with every day Afghans... Ie, go the market, a tea house or for dinner with them? He responded to me, NO NO NEVER, that is far to dangerous. I thought to myself, I understand that, but your job is to help build this country, how can you do that hiding behind these 20 feet high walls?

Myself, Sasha and Ryan living the dream.

I realize it is not that simple, but there has got to be ways to have dialogue with the Afghans? Because simply just training an army and a government does not guarantee a smooth transition of power come 2014. And with the type of expat operation I was exposed too, I do not believe that the average Afghan will buy into our ideas or their governments that easily.

Sunrise from the Expat complex in Kabul.

Sasha doing the climb up.

I came away from these conversations feeling more that we are occupying this land, rather than liberating or helping it. We are not "occupying" in the way the British or the Russians did, as our conduct and motives I believe are different. But the average person in Afghanistan does not seems to care to much for us, and it appears that they as I mentioned in my other posts are just going about their same routine, waiting for the trucks and flags of Europe and American to leave through their mountainous borders.

Although I have to say, I did have a very good time at this party. These very intense conversations always inspire me to drink many a beer. And in the process I managed to meet two young folks from Calgary, both of which actually live VERY CLOSE to my residence there. I was shocked, all this way across the planet and I run into a girl who lives in country hills blvd? And a guy who lives down town on 11th ave right by hudsons? Is this real? What in the name of heaven is going on here?

Their names of Sasha and Ryan, both of whom worked for the United Nations airline, flying people and supplies around Afghanistan. We partied all night together, discussing our experiences in Afghanistan, and it was so cool to meet some people more my own age, as the expats are usually far older and more formal than those of us in our mid twenties.

Time to go to Herat.

Sasha and I watched the sunrise from the top of her complex over Kabul, as she insisted I do not walk home until after sunrise, for fear of my safety. I was very thankful for this generous display of hospitality, that and she made me a care package for my trip to Herat, she truly is the flight attendant of the century.

A fantastic quote from a fantastic leader.

With promises of beers of plenty upon our return home, I parted ways with my new found expat friends and went home to my hotel to rest before my flight across to Herat and my final stop on this wild Afghan adventure.

Next up in the Afghan series is Herat and the journey to Iran.

Thank you to all the folks that showed me a very unique and different Kabul and informed me so much as to their work and lives in Afghanistan. And to Ryan and Sasha, we shall rock the scene in Calgary come the fall.

Goodbye Kabul!

Cheers to you all,

William Delaney

Central Afghanistan- The Children of Ghengis Khan

Central Afghanistan
August 2012

The smaller Buddha Niche, Bamiyan.

Afghanistan has so far been one of the wildest adventures I have ever undertaken. I prepared with everything I had for this trip, and while assembling this journey I knew this would be my most challenging component.

Transport options to Bamiyan. I suppose aid is getting through after all.

My first posting for this blog describes my trip to Asiatic Russia last year, where the inception for this very trip began. I saw in Russia a very unknown world, of hidden peoples that have been spread across the vast expanses of Asia because of the conquests of one great man. His name is Ghengis Khan, the leader of the Mongol horde of the 13th century.

My close friend Noor Mohammed. Helping me arrange transport to Bamiyan.

While in Russia I discovered a people called the Kalmyk's. These people are also the descendants of Ghengis Khan, and I discovered that the legacy of this man can be found through his descendents, many of whom are scattered throughout central Asia. The same holds true for the Hazara people of central Afghanistan. The Hazaras have a distinctly asiatic look compared to the other major tribes of Afghanistan. They have been made well known through the book and film "The Kite Runner", and this book played an important role in helping shape my understanding about the tribes of Afghanistan before my arrival.

On the road to Hazarajat.

I left Kabul early in the morning and went to the Hazarajat garage an area of town populated almost exclusively by Hazaras. It is here that mini-busses, trucks and shared taxi's go to Bamiyan, the main hub of central Afghanistan. I discover upon my arrival that there is two routes to get to Bamiyan, one through Vardak province, which is shorter, but occupied by the Taliban or the other, which crosses the Salang pass and goes over the top of Vardak and through more Hazara occupied territory.

Well the decision was easy for me, the tougher task was finding others to share the Taxi with me. I managed to find a few guys after about an hour who were willing to split the cost with me to take the longer route. The interesting details about the journey are to follow, but first I need to explain slightly what prompted me to come to this part of Afghanistan.

A great way to cool off after our close call with in the previous town.

While watching the discovery channel series "Journey's to the Ends of the Earth" by David Adams, I got to see a whole knew version of Afghanistan. David Adams is one of the few journalists to be able to make a documentary film in Afghanistan during the Taliban regime. The title is the "Lost Buddha's of Afghanistan" and the link to the documentary is:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vI3F2pBgalk

For those of you interested.

Following in the steps of David Adams.

David Adams is truly an inspiration of mine, and in part a major inspiration for this trip. He focuses mostly on the people during his films and the lesser shown side of countries so vastly misunderstood. He showed me these giant Buddha's and really does his best to understand the people in Afghanistan, including the persecuted Hazaras.
The Hazaras are mostly Shia Muslim, the main branch followed in Iran and a branch of Islam found in most countries where Islam exists. However, the doctrine of the Taliban did not recognize Shiites as being muslim, it in fact believed them to be infidels. So these people were systematically persecuted under their regime and even today in the areas occupied by Hazaras you will be hard pressed to find anyone who sympathizes with the Taliban.

My new Hazara friends at the Buddhas.

Ok, so the background is there. Now back to the road trip. We head northwards towards Hazarajat and Bamiyan and about mid way through the journey my drivers phone rings, he blabs on a bit in Hazara and Dari, then he explains to me through the other guy in the back of the car that sorta speaks english that I need to lie down in the car.

I don't ask to many questions, as the guys seemed like it was rather urgent. I do as they say and we pass through a town rather quickly and after about ten minutes they say to get up and not to worry. I am then explained what has happened. They said that I, despite wearing Afghan clothes look like a Tajik, and not a Hazara. These two ethnic groups rarely travel with one another and so it would cause some suspicion among the locals in a town dominated by Pashtuns(one of the other major tribes and one that at times is more sympathetic to the Taliban). The guys explained that the Taliban had been active in the mountains of Vardak that day and had shot at a car full of Hazaras on the other route to Bamiyan. This is why the driver insisted I lie down, just in case someone was a Taliban spy and suspected that their was a foreigner in the car.

The largest of the Bamiyan Buddha Niches.

I have discovered that the Taliban has began targetting Afghans who work for foreign companies, accusing them of being sympathizers or traitors. And they roam the mountains surrounding the land of the Hazaras, trying to attack cars that bring food or supplies in from Kabul or elsewhere. So in a way despite no longer being in power they are still trying to cut off the Hazaras.

City of Screams.

Regardless we made it to Bamiyan and I was able to view the remnants of the giant Buddhas, or what is left of them. Shortly after David Adams made his documentary, the Taliban destroyed the Buddhas in an extreme fit of rage against any idols. Despite this being a historically important place, the Taliban sought to erase any memory of this other religion in their land.

The Taliban were ousted by the USA forces shortly there after.

Bamiyan Valley.

Touring Bamiyan was a blessing, the Hazaras like their other Afghan counterparts are lovely people and I managed to meet two young Hazara men who were working for foreign companies at the Buddhas and we took photos together and embraced the experience. The one man spoke excellent english and translated to me all about the Buddhas. Of course after the experience I was invited to dine at their guest house. A guest house right in front of the Buddhas, with a man whom is the head of the Bamiyan tourist board. I also met the mayor of Bamiyan there and we sipped tea together and discussed my experience in Afghanistan. I honestly felt like a five star celebrity at this guest house and naturally I was invited to stay, once again for free. Meeting these Hazara's and hearing their stories was so special. They had all sought refuge in Iran during the Taliban times, but had returned to their beautiful valley to make business again and try and rebuild Afghanistan. But they too are worried about 2014 when the USA pulls out, as they more than most in Afghanistan know the wrath of what may come back. These Hazara men talked to me about how important it was to educate the children of Afghanistan, as it is only through this that Afghanistan will ever know a future without war. They said to me, "the USA spends so much money training our people how to fight, we know how to fight, we have been fighting for thousands of years". In many ways I agree with them, but I know there is no simple solution in this complicated land.

Inside the BUDDHA Niches

I obliged this hospitality and the second day visited the city of screams, a place that Ghengis Khan burned the ground during his ravaging campaigns through Afghanistan. I  soaked up the peacefulness of this valley before having to head back to Kabul.

My new minders at the guest house and I crafted a strategy to avoid any altercations with the Taliban on the drive back. They suggests to break the fast at 3am just before sunrise and then depart immediately, as the Taliban will likely go to sleep until about 7 or 8am and then rise to go about their rounds in the mountains. Ramazan can be quite exhausting, especially while waging war against the USA, so we decided this was the best bet. We followed the plan, drove at full speed, I covered my face entirely in the all important Afghan scarf and we arrived in Kabul in no time.

The trip to Bamiyan was a fabulous detour and seeing the Hazara people and hearing their stories was a blessing. I can only hope and pray for the best of fortunes for them.

I sit now back in Kabul puzzling my experience once again, as I have so many times during this Afghan trip. I thought to myself, why are the Americans spending so much time on the Afghan military and not building some schools? Or creating employments for the wives of these soldiers. I believe that there needs to be military training, as someone needs to fight the Taliban. But why is there not more effort on the other fronts of society? I puzzle about this.... But I guess if I knew the answers I would not be teaching high school in Canada, I would be working for the US state department advising Hillary Clinton and President Obama.

Tomorrow will be my last day in Kabul before I fly across the country to Herat.

Stay tuned for the final chapter of Kabul and more of the exciting adventures to come here in the land of the brave.

The Beautiful Guest House.

Thank you to all those brave and kind Hazaras that made my trip to central Afghanistan so rewarding. It has to be the most educational experience I have had to date in this amazing country.

Sincerely,

William Delaney

Afghanistan- The Lion of the Panjshir

AFGHANISTAN- The Lion of the Panjshir

Ahmed Shah Massoud. The Lion of the Panjshir. Leader of the Afghan resistance against the Soviets and Taliban.

August 2012

I titled my first post in the Afghan series of this blog, the unconquerable land. No other part of Afghanistan holds more true to this statement than the Panjshir valley.

This is a valley north of Kabul where the ravages of war that scare so much of the country are not as easily seen. It is a terrain so difficult that even the mighty Soviet Union could not penetrate it.  Everyone I met in Kabul insisted that I visit this place, they told me it is one of the most beautiful spots in Afghanistan and it is also the home of Ahmed Shah Massoud, the man the Afghans call “The Lion of the Panjshir”.

I had no idea how I would get up to this valley, so I asked around and I was told about a market in the north of the city where people from the valley often come to buy supplies and trade some of their locally grown produce. I made my way to the market, asked if any of the vans were heading up to the valley and one man said “hey, come along with me, no problem” . I later discovered that was the only English he knew. I thankfully had in my passport a VISA for Iran, a VISA written in Farsi, which Afghans, if they can read, can understand. So I would usually show this document to Afghans, that way they could know my name, where I am from, my age and so on. It is a good starting off point. So my many thanks to the Iran embassy in Pakistan. I showed it to the driver, she smiled and said ….. WILLLLLIAMMMM? Baillie….? Delllllllannney?? Yes yes? I responded correct, tashakor(thank you in Dari). We were then the best of pals for the next 3 hours that it took us to reach the Panjshir.

I went through the check point at the entry to the Panjshir valley and it was here that I realized just why it was so difficult for the Russians to get through and near impossible for the Taliban.

 This valley is steep and narrow, offering little room for Red army tanks or Taliban pickups. The people are mostly Tajiks, the same ethnic people as the earlier country I visited, Tajikistan, and the Tajiks in Afghanistan were not as heavily involved in the Taliban regime or believed in their ideology.

This valley is green, lush with fruit pastures and the people seem far more open and relaxed here. After all, there valley and homes were never ravaged by the Russians, and they never had to suffer under the repression of the Taliban. I saw remnants of Red army tanks littered across the valley floor, testament to the great tactical skills of Ahmed Shah Massoud and his ability to trap these Russian tank convoys. I made my way up the valley, and visited the tomb of this great warrior. The Afghans here were once again thrilled to see me and tour me around the facility, explaining the heroics of their great leader.

I later realized that since I had hitch hiked all the way up the valley to see this tomb I would at some point need to hitch hike back. I wandered down the main road, sticking my thumb out at a mini-van, and sure enough in good Afghan style it stops. I get in and they start driving me to the next village. Afghans god bless you guys.

Inside the van is a driver, who speaks only Tajik and Dari, but in the back is a trio of guys doing work for John Hopkins University in the USA. They are all Afghans, but they all speak fluent English. Naturally as it is later in the day I am invited to dine and even offered the opportunity to stay the night in the valley with them. I wanted to stay, but I had plans to meet up with a friend in Kabul to hopefully make our way up into Central Afghanistan, so I needed to get back. They understood entirely and in good Afghan fashion arranged me a ride back to Kabul. I tried to pay for the food, or the ride, and they laughed and explained to me that when you are a guest in Afghanistan you are to be treated as if you are their brother or their son. I accepted and was on my way back to Kabul.

The Panjshir valley has not been kind to invaders, but the people of this valley are kind to those that come to them in peace and in respect. I find it fascinating how these Panjshiri people could smite the mighty USSR and crush the Taliban, but would offer me a room in their home at the drop of a hat. It is just a fascinating complex in this country, a mind set so ancient and so deep that over the course of my entire life I will never fully understand.

I am safely back in Kabul, and my day trip the Panjshir has showed me once again the true hospitality of these warrior people.

Tomorrow, inshallah I shall set off for an adventure to central Afghanistan, the land of the Hazaras (descendants of Ghengis Khan) and the giant Buddha’s of Bamiyan.

Thank you to all those that hosted me in the Panjshir valley and made this incredible experience possible.

Sincerely,

William Delaney